bloodhound oor Kornies
bloodhound
en
A large scenthound famed for its ability to follow a scent many days old, over vast distances. This dog is often used as a police dog to track missing people, fleeing suspects, or escaped prisoners.
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(hkg.) bloodhound goezughel (hg.) owrwoezek; jentyl
Nyns ov dha eskar.langbot langbot
bloodhound
Kas yw gans Mary kevewiow.langbot langbot
bloodhound goesughel (hanow gwann / hanow gwadn)
Res o dhymm diberth.langbot langbot
bloodhound
Ny vynn Tom dybri henna.langbot langbot
In the distance, I could hear dogs barking. This did not overly trouble me because these dogs would have been just the normal guard dogs at the base. There had not been time to get any bloodhounds up from Melbourne yet. So, unless David or I were stupid enough to make ourselves highly scent-visible, the guard dogs would not find our hide-out before we had moved on. Even so, I knew that I now needed to stay put. Wandering about in the bush at night was likely to attract the attention of any sort of dog. David would just have to fend for himself. I spent an anxious night lying awake on the cold, earthen floor, deep within the tunnel complex, waiting and wondering – just like parents do when their teenagers start going out at night without them. (Though David was hardly a typical teenager.) Morning came – still no David in sight. “Where have you gotten to, ya little flesh-eating bastard?” I said aloud. I waited till mid-day once again before I could no longer stand the anxiety and suspense. I crept towards the mouth of the tunnel and, after listening for a time, ventured a peek out of the entrance. Nothing. There was no sign that the searchers had passed by. That was a relief, of sorts. I waited a further time – an hour or two maybe – and listened. It was a very still, summer’s day. Not even the familiar sound of eucalypt leaves rustling in the breeze. In the bush, in those conditions, any loud sound will carry for miles. If there had been any trucks rumbling along the Scrub Hill road, I would have heard them. If there had been any dogs still searching, I would have heard their barking. There were none. So, what did this mean? Perhaps the search had moved on elsewhere. Perhaps it had been suspended until proper tracker dogs had arrived from Melbourne. Or, more likely, there were now troops stationed in bush ‘hides’, just watching and waiting until I emerged somewhere in the area. They probably had orders to shoot on sight because, after all, this was being treated as a wartime operation. I couldn’t take the risk of emerging just yet. That would have made no sense. I was comparatively safe where I was – for the moment. David would have to fend for himself (unless, as I worried, he had already been picked off by some sniper hiding in the bush – though I had heard no gunfire at all.)
An bleujyow na yw teg.langbot langbot
bloodhound
My a wre triga gensi.langbot langbot
“If you can get us there, we can just disappear,” I said. He looked at me in disbelief. “The Aussie guys here know that area, Scrub Hill, like the backs of their hands – they train there all the time. No-one can hide there for long,” said the Sergeant. I smiled: “I can promise you that they won’t find us – not even if they bring in a pack of bloodhounds. I know the area well, too – and there are some extremely good places to hide. Besides, David and I won’t be staying there for too long – we’ve got somewhere better to go now.” The Sergeant shrugged: “Okay, it’s your funeral,” said the Sergeant. “Scrub Hill it is. Just don’t tell me where you’re going after that. I don’t want to know.” He shook his head in continuing disbelief and chuckled at my confidence. We left the main base of Puckapunyal at great speed. We just flew through the main entrance. The barriers were in the raised position and there were no guards in the booths on that particular night. I still wonder if it had been arranged beforehand by the Sergeant or whether the guards had just left their posts to join the internecine fracas at the parade ground. In the end, none of that matters. What matters is that we left the base completely unimpeded. The Sergeant dropped us off precisely where I had asked, in the Scrub Hill Area of the Pucka complex, wished us well and left us with a kitbag full of essential supplies to carry me through the first few days on the run. (David’s own needs would be minimal but I quickly decided that, despite his protests, he could do the ‘heavy lifting’ of the kitbag.) I thanked that Sergeant of the United States Army Corps – he was a decent human being and I hope he had a long and happy life. (Perhaps, he’s still alive?) And, like Ingrid, I never saw him again either.
Melyn yw an howl.langbot langbot
bloodhound
Nyns ov dha vab.langbot langbot
bloodhound
Yma lies lyver dhe’m tas.langbot langbot
bloodhound [hanow kadarn]
Skwith ov.langbot langbot
10 sinne gevind in 2 ms. Hulle kom uit baie bronne en word nie nagegaan nie.